ET
by SecretLibrarian
Summary: In which Bulma reflects on how utterly alien a certain Saiyan prince is. V/B


_Author's Note: Inspired by the song 'E.T.' by Katy Perry. Bulma/Vegeta 100% - she muses upon how the Saiyan Prince is so utterly... alien. Set when Goku is away training, and Vegeta is training with the Gravity Room. Brief interaction at the fridge. Written for a pal!  
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Saiyans, as a race, looked very humanlike. Admittedly, there were some differences in the racial phenotype. The Saiyan physique tended to be much more impressive due to their Spartan training systems. And the hair color was almost exclusively black. Their skin tended to be sun-bronzed. Their eyes, too, were most commonly darker than midnight. But when Goku walked along the busy city street, he passed for human. Goku had laughing eyes and gentle smile. Natural-born citizens of planet Earth were quick to accept him as part of their human family. Goku was currently But Bulma Briefs knew otherwise... because his direct counterpart, Vegeta, lived in her home. He was using the Gravity Room that the blue-haired woman had developed specifically for training purposes.

Bulma saw him once every day.

Their interaction was sporadic. Every morning, at five o'clock in the morning, Vegeta would go to the Gravity Room. The Saiyan would remain there all day. His determination to increase his strength and stamina was absolute. She knew better than to bother him when he was actively engaged in the Gravity Room. So, Bulma only saw him once a day - late in the evening, when the prince emerged to take his dinner. As heir to Capsule Corporation, the teal-eyed young lady spent most of her time in the lab developing products. In her own way, Bulma's routine was parallel to Vegeta's. They both spent almost the entirety of their days working their asses off. Bulma's dinnertime was simple. It usually involved making a barbecue at the beginning of the week and eating it as leftovers for the rest of the week. Sometimes, a carton of ice cream would go missing from the freezer on nights when the scientist felt that she was particularly close to a product breakthrough. Vegeta always helped himself to whatever was in the fridge. Despite being chronically grumpy, the prince was surprisingly unpicky about what he consumed. So, each night the petite scientist and Saiyan prince just so happened to sit down together to eat. Dinner time with Vegeta was always awkward.

It was one such night.

The day had been annoying - a rival company had put out a specific line of ultra-efficient hovercars just _days_ before Capsule Corp was scheduled to release their own newest design. As a result, months of hard work had, essentially, gone down the drain. Capsule Corp would still put out their version of the hovercars, but the time race had been won by the rival company. Credit for the unique capsule design was likely to go to them. Bulma was _still _wondering who had leaked information from the top-secret product! A hot shower had not helped to calm her down. Bulma's hair was still dripping; she had opted not to blow-dry it. Hunger had won over vanity. It was only six o'clock - much too early for Vegeta to emerge for dinner from his training. Typically, he came out for dinner around eight. Confident in her solitude, the bluette wrapped a fluffy white towel about her shivering wet body and dashed to the kitchen. Her electric-blue curls fell wetly onto her bare shoulders, bouncing cutely as Bulma single-mindedly made a beeline for the fridge. In her focused hunger, Bulma did not notice the figure sitting at the table.

"Hmm~dee~da," hummed the pretty scientist, crouching to dig through the pile of tupperware containers in the fridge. It looked like there was leftover pulled pork - score! It would be delicious with some extra barbecue sau -

"Ahem," coughed a deep voice from behind her, saturated with discomfort.

Bulma jumped and swallowed a surprised squeak. She almost dropped the BBQ sauce bottle in her pallid hand. The scientist was sharp - it didn't take her long to realize that the only person who could, logically, be in the kitchen at this time was Vegeta. He must have come in for an early dinner tonight. Turning her head slowly, Bulma saw Vegeta sitting at the kitchen table. In front of him was a half-eaten bowl of chopped salad large enough to feed a horse. Saiyan appetite was truly mind-blowing. The muscular Saiyan prince sat watching her silently. His eyes bored into hers shamelessly.

"Vegeta," Bulma finally croaked out, hoping her voice didn't sound as silly in reality as it did in her own head. "You're out here early, I thought that you wouldn't be coming out for dinner until, uh, later. Or I would have, you know, put on more ... clothes." (This last part of the bluette's comment made her face heat more and she mentally reprimanded herself for verbally acknowledging the weirdness of the situation she'd put them in.) Bulma rather expected him to make a snide comment - but the prince was unusually quiet today.

Vegeta grunted noncommittally and shrugged in response.

Slowly, deliberately, he pushed his chair out from the table and stood up. Vegeta wore a skin-tight blue one-piece. It took a certain kind of man to stalk around with confidence in such attire. He stepped around the table and made his way languidly over to where she knelt. His very movements screamed 'predator'. Even the Saiyan prince's _walk_ was graceful; muscles rippling under tight skin like a big cat on the prowl. He wasn't human. He was an alien. Before she knew it, Vegeta was in Bulma's personal space. Bulma's cheeks went pink. Vegeta's whole body radiated heat. The man leaned over - she scuttled backwards, like a crab, still weilding the BBQ bottle. He gave her a strange look, raising one ink-black brow.

He reached into the fridge and took out an energy drink. Oh, of _course_, thought Bulma. He came over to the fridge for a reason - it had nothing whatsoever to do with the fact Bulma was there. But then Vegeta turned to consider her. There was only a foot of space between them - much closer than they had ever been to each other before. The overhead light cast butter-yellow light onto his handsome face with its sharp contours and high cheekbones. He looked human. For a moment, Bulma could pretend. This wasn't an alien prince from a faraway planet who had enough physical power in his pinky finger to level a city. Bulma could practically feel his heat overwhelming her.

A cold drip of water from her hair onto her collarbone jolted Bulma's mind to the present.

He was a wolf in sheep's clothing. Although Vegeta might walk amongst the human beings of Earth, although he might share their same basic physical structure, he was_ not_ human. Vegeta was capable of destroying planets, flattening metropolises, and killing other living creatures. The amount of power packed into what was, comparably, a small form, was incredible. The purebred prince was more obviously an alien. It was easy to forget that Vegeta was a Saiyan alien - not a human. Thinking otherwise was a fleeting daydream. Vegeta went back to his seat at the table.

Bulma shook herself. Well, she was already in the kitchen. She might as well finish what she had come for. The petite blue-eyed scientist tightened her towel protectively about herself and heated up some leftover pulled-pork. The scientist allowed her mind to drift as she put together a plate for herself. Absentminded, Bulma marched past the seated Saiyan towards the pantry. Her intent was to get herself a napkin. But when she had initially entered the room, she had dripped residual shower-water onto the floor. And, due to a fluke of circumstance, it was right in this shallow puddle that her bare foot stepped.

Bulma slipped magnificently and went flying backwards.

Instinctively, she closed her eyes and tensed her body to prepare to hit the linoleum. 'Great', Bulma thought to herself moments before impact. 'I'm going to fall flat on my ass in front of Vegeta on the one day he chose to be gentlemanly instead of mock me.' Before she could hit the ground, though, Bulma felt a muscular arm around her and she was effortlessly caught. His body was very warm. Bulma opened her eyes and met Vegeta's.

His eyes.

They were black as coal, and a thousand times as smoldering. Framed by a thick lace of black lashes, they pierced her to her soul when he focused their heat upon her. Vegeta's gaze sent vibrations of excitement up her spine. She felt like the mouse, cornered by a cat. The intensity of his gaze literally commanded her to stay still. Did any _human _have eyes as powerful as the Saiyan prince's? A stray blue curl slid from from her forehead and cradled her cheek. Normally, the scientist wasn't a particularly shy kind of woman. Bulma did wish, though, that she had on proper clothing - sure, she wasn't _naked_ but the shoving force of his gaze made her feel otherwise. No human man's eye contact had ever made her feel that way. Typically capable of finding a witty retort for any situation, Bulma found herself to be speechless. Bulma's heart sped up with excitement. The bluette felt a very peculiar, strong emotion rise up instinctively within her. The Saiyan's warmth, proximity, and strength was intoxicating.

A growl, "... Watch where you're walking, you silly woma-"

Bulma kissed him.

She pressed her plush pink lips to his own sleek, thin ones. His mouth was burning-hot to the touch. His body froze above her, his arm still supporting her in an uncomfortable rescue-catch. The prince's body language indicated that he had not been expecting the sudden kiss. (Honestly, neither had she.) He was hesitant. Bulma ignored his silent response. Dragging her lips gently over his, she gently tested the firmness of his mouth. Her tongue darted out, bird-quick, and tapped his lower lip playfully. This got his attention. The prince got over his initial shock and began to express tentative interest. His mouth moved over hers. His other arm encircled her and drew her slowly closer to his body. Encouraged, Bulma looped her arms around the back of his thick neck. Their kiss deepened.

The kiss was incredible; it set her entire body to tingling. All of Bulma's previous kisses paled in comparison to this one. Was this what kissing a Saiyan was like? It felt like she was being dipped in white-hot lava - if that lava was a pool of passion. When they finally pulled away from each other, it was reluctantly. Vegeta stared at her for a minute - then promptly chased after her and kissed her again. His enthusiasm was infectious. Bulma laughed against his hot lips. She could feel her cheeks burning with embarrassment. Despite the impulsiveness of her kiss, the blue-haired woman didn't regret it at all. Sometimes taking a risk was worth it. And looking up into the Saiyan prince's focused face confirmed that this risk had been worth it.

_So_ worth it.

At last their kiss broke. Breathing was essential to living, after all. The alien man stared down at her, a vein in his neck jumping with pent up excitement.

"What brought that on?" Vegeta asked at last, tone hoarse with passion. His voice was like silk on naked skin.

"I-I don't know," said Bulma, the absurdity of the admission making her smile bashfully. "Had to take advantage of the moment, I guess."

His eyes glittered down at her with the subtlest hint of a smile. "You should _take advantage_ of me more often."

They kissed again.

Her towel slid down somewhat. Immediately reminded of her attire - or lack thereof, Bulma broke the kiss and squealed. If the scientist wasn't careful, the pleasant fluke kiss would evolve rapidly into something more. Although spontaneity was pleasant, Bulma was no easy conquest. She snatched the towel up to censor her bosom. Her small pale hand shoved at Vegeta's chest. The Saiyan was immobile as bedrock, though, and the shove ended up making Bulma stumble back from him a few steps. Bulma stared up at him. He stared down at her. After a tense moment she giggled and swept past him.

Her cheeks blushed with delighted, girlish happiness. She grabbed her dinner plate and scampered out of the kitchen (she could feel his gaze following her) and went to hide out in her office to eat. Bulma did not do any more work that evening. Likewise, Vegeta found himself unable to concentrate on training. They would never be able to look at each other with neutrality again after this incident. This unexpected, fiery kiss had ignited a dormant passion in the pair.

It was alien... but welcome.


End file.
